


A Tale of Five Cakes

by Crollalanza



Series: Sports Fest 2018 Haikyuu!! [20]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cake, Fluff, M/M, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 15:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15464601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: “I’m so sorry!”Daichi gulped. “Are you?”“What?”“’Sorry’,” Daichi explained, and stared at Suga, at the flush mounting his cheeks and the frosting still smeared on his cheek. He reached out again, this time tucking a tress of Suga’s hair behind his ear. “I’m not.”





	A Tale of Five Cakes

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:  
> Top 5 Best Moments Involving Cake:

**Cupcake**

 

It wasn’t Daichi’s usual route home, but after the Saturday afternoon practise, where he’d realised ruefully that he needed new trainers, he headed into town rather than jogging home.

 “Going my way?” Suga asked.

 “Shopping,” he replied and held up his trainer to display the gaping sole. “What about you? Haven’t you usually turned off by now?”

 “Mmm, normally I would, but after that session, I feel a great need for something sweet and sickly.” He sighed. “Got to replenish my energy somehow.”

 “There _are_ protein bars, Suga.”

 “Shame they’re not slathered in strawberry frosting, then I’d buy them by the truckload.” He shot Daichi a sideglance and arched an eyebrow. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Sawamura?”

 “No, I’m trying to tell myself that a cupcake with _chocolate_ icing is the last thing I need right now.”

 “Oh.” Suga grinned. “Is it working?”

 Daichi sighed dramatically. “Not in the slightest. Just don’t tell Ukai-san.”

 After buying trainers, they managed to find a small table in a chintzy type of place. Suga laughed at Daichi’s expression when they walked in, but assured him the cakes made up for the décor.

 “You come here often?” Daichi asked, gaping at the bright pink curtains fussing at the windows.

 “Sawamura Daichi, what type of boy do you think I am!” Suga exclaimed, and tossed his head so his hair fluffed and haloed around his face. Then, mid-pout, he started to laugh. “If you want the best cakes, then follow the old ladies.”

 It made sense, sort of. Well, it made as much sense as Suga ever did, so Daichi acquiesced and followed Suga to a table in the corner.

 And he was right, the cakes were superb. Light and tasty, with sweet, glistening icing swirled on the top, a moan escaped Suga’s lips when the waitress brought them over, and he stared at their perfection, his eyes alight with love.

 As Daichi poured the tea, Suga started to eat, closing his eyes as he savoured the flavour.

 “So good,” he gurgled. “Gah, I needed this. That was a tough session.”

 Daichi was about to agree, and to start his own cake, but just then, Suga turned a little to the right, and Daichi saw a smear of icing on his cheek.

 “Suga…” He proffered his napkin.

 “Hmm.” He smiled again. “You should start or I’ll eat yours.”

 “You’ve got… uh … frosting …”

 “Oh …” He licked his lips, completely missing the icing. “All done?”

 “No, let me.” Daichi leant across the table, meaning to dab it away with his napkin, but instead his thumb came into contact with Suga’s cheek, and he found himself stopping as he slowed to wipe the icing away.

 And Suga, his eyelids fluttering, turned a touch, and pressed his lips into Daichi’s palm.

 Their eyes met and then they both jerked away.

 “I’m so sorry!”

 Daichi gulped. “Are you?”

 “What?”

 “’Sorry’,” Daichi explained, and stared at Suga, at the flush mounting his cheeks and the frosting still smeared on his cheek. He reached out again, this time tucking a tress of Suga’s hair behind his ear. “I’m not.”

  

**Mille-feuille**

 

“One thousand leaves,” Suga declared. “Or layers, that’s how many there should be.” He broke off a bit of the pastry, examining it closely. “How on earth do they count?”

 Daichi licked at the feather icing on the surface. Pastries weren’t a favourite of his, but Suga liked to try new things, and the mille-feuille had been baked fresh that day. “Are you going to count them, or eat?” he asked, and swallowed down a bite. “Actually these are pretty good!”

 “You’d rather have had chocolate though, wouldn’t you?”

 “Uh… well … yeah. Am I that boring?”

 “Sawamura Daichi, show me who says you’re boring and I’ll punch the daylights out of them!”

 “You did when we walked in and I said I fancied chocolate cake.”

 “Ah, then I shall throw myself in the way of the nearest Kageyama serve as punishment. Or Asahi, come to think of it, his serves are getting mighty powerful.” He munched on the pastry, dabbing the cream away and considered. “You’re right, chocolate cake would have better,”

 

  **Matcha cake**

 

“Pushing the boat out, aren’t you, Daichi?”

 “I can take it away, exchange for a cookie or something,” Daichi said, and stopped nudging the plate towards the centre of the table.

 “Don’t you dare!” Suga reached for his spoon. “This looks so good.”

 The green tea infused sponge was moist but not claggy, the taste dancing on his tongue. And Suga appeared to be enjoying it too, his pale pink tongue chasing a crumb around his lips.

 But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I don’t want this to end,” Daichi said at last.

Suga began to trace patterns in the frosting, lines and crosses as his mouth drooped. “Neither do I. But everyone says long distance is hard, Dai.”

 “We’re not ‘everyone’.”

 “Maybe it would be better to finish now and—” He didn’t finish, but glared at Daichi. “Why are you smirking.”

 “Because you sound like me when I said I wanted to quit the team.” He licked his spoon then tucked in with more gusto, more sure now. “We can make it work, Sug.”

  

**Chocolate sponge**

 

It was not looking good. Lopsided for a start, and the one side that had risen was black on the top. Daichi guessed he could cover that with icing, but it wouldn’t disguise the fact that the cake he’d made was on a slant.

  _Maybe if I carve off the burnt bit, it’ll look better._

But just as he was pondering, someone pounded on the apartment door.

 It was one in the afternoon, far too early for Suga, so he could he guessed, ignore it, but the knocking increased in intensity and then a voice cried out, “Daichi… it’s meeee!”

 Suga!

 …

 Shit!

 He ran to the door, wrenching it open. “You’re early!”

 “Lecture was cancelled so I took an earlier train. Not a problem, is it?”

 Pulling Suga inside, Daichi kicked the door shut, then gathered him too him. “Not at all,” he muttered, and lowered his lips to Suga’s.

 “Mmm, you smell delicious,” Suga said, melting into his arms. “Sort of chocolatey.”

 “Ah, I made you a cake for your birthday,” he replied, “but it’s burnt, so you won’t want to eat it.”

 Grinning Suga wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck, and nuzzled his ear. “In that case,” he said as he nipped. “I shall eat you instead.”

 

**Sweet Potato and Custard Cake**

 

Daichi’s baking has improved over the years. Not that it could be much worse than that first attempt at a chocolate sponge. Suga can still taste the burnt bits and remember the texture of lumps where the flour hadn’t mixed in.

 Today, for Suga’s birthday, he presents a purple creation, small and egg-shaped, with what appears to be vegetation sticking out of the top.

 “Um…” Suga tries not to poke at it or sound dubious, but it is a very deep purple.

 “That’s angelica,” Daichi says _sounding_ nonchalant.

 His hands are trembling.

“Daichi, are you nervous about something?”

 “Um, well …” He gulps and hands over a spoon. “Try the cake.”

 Digging into it, Suga is taken aback by the pale inside, vanilla sponge and custard oozing at its centre. “If you’re trying to poison me, you’re going about it the right way,” Suga says, taking a spoonful.

 “Kill you?”

 “You’re hands are shaking,” Suga tells him. He puts down the spoon. “Spill the beans. I can’t enjoy this cake, fabulous though it looks, with you fidgeting all over the place.”

 Daichi coughs. He clears his throat. Then he coughs again. Getting up from his chair, Suga fetches him a glass of water.

 “I’m waiting.”

“It’s like this…” Daichi sips the water. “I’ve been offered promotion.”

 “Oh … excellent!” He smiles. “Well done.”

 “It’ll mean longer hours,” Daichi continues, and gnaws on his lip.

 “Ah…”

 So less snatched days away together. Suga continues to smile, but the distance does get him down. Sometimes he thinks he shouldn’t have stayed in academia, but finished his degree and joined Daichi in Kyoto.

 “And a transfer.” Daichi coughs again. “To Tokyo.”

 “Huh?”

 “So …” Digging his own spoon into the sweet potato and custard cake, Daichi offers it to Suga. “I was thinking we could … uh … share rent.”

 And Suga would have screamed ‘PERFECT’ but his mouth is full of delicious cake, so he nods and nods and nods some more, then leans over the table to give Daichi a hug.

 The purple sweet potato and custard cakes, could well have been the finest Daichi had ever baked, but they’re smooshed against both their shirts, and neither of them care.

**Author's Note:**

> for some reason I'm obsessed with mille-feuille and I don't know why because I'm not that keen on them. I think it's the process and effort that I find fascinating. /rambling
> 
> Back to my daisuga roots with this one. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
